


Close my eyes and pretend

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Anonymous Sex, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Crack Fic, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, virgin Jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 20:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18858388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: Margaery's silky voice tickled the shell of his ear as she smiled, a wicked smile, as if she knew something so deliciously awful about what was happening.But it was awful, wasn't it? he thought solemnly. It was awful that he was so desperate to forget about Sansa that he would seek comfort in someone else's arms because he knew he could never have the high-born lady, love of his life."Alayne?" Margaery purred, tilting her head towards the door. "Are you ready, darling?"





	Close my eyes and pretend

"You should get yourself a woman sir!" one of his men called out.

The pretty brunette in his lap giggled and shot Jon a flirtatious look through her batting lashes. Jon scowled into his empty cup before standing abruptly, heading to the bar for a refill.  The truth was, there were many a pretty girl here and he understood the needs men had after a battle. But Jon had only ever loved one woman and she would not be found here.

Sansa Stark had been the daughter of Lord Eddard, a classic beauty with large blue eyes and fiery locks that tumbled down her back. Jon had blushed every time she came to the stables for her mare with a large smile. which Jon had stupidly let himself think was all his.

Lord Eddard had always treated his household well but Jon doubted his kindness and generosity would remain if he had found out the true extent of Jon's feelings towards his daughter.

Thinking of Sansa now, made him want to empty his stomach. He would never begrudge her happiness but if he thought too much about how she had left for the capital, thought of how golden prince Joffrey had pledged to marry her in the golden sept in a wedding to rival the songs.

The wedding had never happened, Joffrey had killed Ned Stark in a fit of rage, believing Lord Stark to be a traitor. Yet he had kept Sansa as a prisoner.

Lord Robb, Sansa's brother had declared war instantly and Jon had not hesitated to join his army. He had become a formidable fighter, rising to become the general of the army and Lord Robb's most trusted advisor. It was a far cry from the son of the stable hand he had grown up as.

The door to the tavern burst open, the wood thundering against the wall and the wind rushing through, blowing all the cheers and laughter out the door. Jon turned with a perplexed frown as the boy panted for breath, hand braced against the frame for strength.

"There was a riot in the capital," he wheezed. Jon straightened instantly, his heart plummeting as the boy continued. "The prince is dead."

"Lady Sansa," Jon growled running to the boy and grabbing his tunic. "What of Sansa?"

"She hasn't been seen since," the boy whispered solemnly.

***

Grief did strange things to people.

Jon would never think anything would make him approach Margaery Tyrell, granddaughter of the owner of the establishment he had stumbled into. Yet here he was, in a bed in a tavern, with a girl Margaery had arranged for him due to come into the room any moment from where she was getting ready in the adjoining room.

He had ridden for the capital when that dreadful news had come, desperate to be proven wrong, desperate to find Sansa alive.

But the boy had spoken true that night, Sansa had never been seen since that fateful day.

Margaery's silky voice tickled the shell of his ear breaking him from his thoughts. He glanced at her, swallowing nervously as she smiled, a wicked smile, as if she knew something so deliciously awful about what was happening.

But it was awful, wasn't it? he thought solemnly. It was awful that he was so desperate to forget about Sansa that he would seek comfort in someone else's arms because he knew he could never have the high-born lady, love of his life.

"Alayne?" Margaery purred, tilting her head towards the door. "Are you ready darling?"

The soft voice answered back and Jon's vision suddenly went black as Margaery placed the blindfold over his eyes and pulled his arms up towards the headboard.

“Don’t worry Jon,” Margaery’s voice was a soothing as a lover’s kiss. “Alayne won’t bite…unless you ask her to.”

He wondered what Alayne looked like but all he could picture was Sansa. Sansa with her red hair, as beautiful as dancing flames but just as forbidden to his touch. Sansa, with her eyes as blue as a sunlit sea that he would willingly drown in any time she would gift him with her gaze. Sansa, with her sweet, easy smile and laugh like a song he longed to hear over and over again.

If it was Sansa before him, he would drink in every inch of her. He had imagined them like this, stolen moments with desperate couplings. But even in his quickest moments of sinful indulgence, he would imagine how he would map every inch of her porcelain skin. He would kiss her neck until she sighed, purred against him like a satisfied cat. He would stroke her nipples until they were swollen with desire before he would take them into his mouth, making her moan and arch towards him, her body begging for more. He would kiss his way down her body, down and down and down until…

He shifted as his cock throbbed with want, his cheeks burning with shame at his wantonness, proof that he was a lustful bastard after all.

The bed shifted slightly beneath a new weight and he felt his breath hitch at the realisation that this was happening. He was going to lay with a woman for the first time and it wasn’t going to be Sansa, like he had always dreamed.

He shouldn’t have listened to his men, he thought suddenly. This wasn’t what he needed, what he wanted. He wanted Sansa, only Sansa.

 _But you can’t have Sansa. She i_   _s dead and gone and you are still here, in flesh and blood._

His hips jerked up as a warm tongue traced a slow path along his cock. The bed frame rattled with the force he tugged on his binds in surprise, a curse slipping out before he could stop it.

“I think he likes that Alayne,” Margaery purred.

This time, he felt Alayne’s lips close around the head of his cock and he bit into his bottom lip so hard he tasted blood as he tried to stop himself from thinking about Sansa instead. And as Alayne began to move her head, enthusiastic licks of her tongue against his pulsing skin, he couldn’t think of anything but the intense feeling building in his gut.

But when he spilled inside of her mouth, he had to turn his head and bite into his arm to stop himself shouting out another name instead.

He could still feel her breath against his thighs, her tongue lapping at his softening cock like an eager kitten and a sudden urge came over him.

“Could you remove the blindfold?” he asked between desperate pants as he tried to regain his composure. “I would like to use my mouth on you too but I’ve never…I would need to see what I was doing.”

There was a tense silence before Margaery spoke, far too chirpy for his liking, betraying the fact that she was hiding something.

“Afraid not,” she replied smoothly. “Alayne is so beautiful, men fall in love with one glance.”

“I love another,” Jon assured her before he swallowed and corrected himself "Loved."

“What was she like?”

Jon swallowed, his body shifting. “Beautiful, radiant. Inside and out. She was the Lord’s daughter though, and I was just the bastard son of a stable hand.”

“And I suppose she went off to marry some lord?”

Jon nodded slowly. “I never told her I loved her. I couldn’t offer her anything and I wanted her to have the life like the songs she loved. Knights and feasts and a golden prince.”

"Sometimes true princes aren't the ones with crowns," Margaery commented, a hint of sadness in her tone.

He hissed as Alayne's fingers wrapped around his cock, his hips raising up as she pumped her hand up and down in her tight hold until he was fully hard once more.

"Remember what I told you Alayne," Margaery chirped. The bed shifted under the new weight, the murmur of Margaery's words in Alayne's ear, too quiet for Jon to hear, and the sharp gasp and Alayne's soft voice.

"But I..."

"Shh," Margaery cooed. "There is nothing to be ashamed of."

Jon shifted slightly, awkwardness seeping through him as he remained oblivious to what was going on. He felt the mattress lift and assumed Margaery had retreated again. But he had little time to think of it when he heard the soft sighs, an unmistakable rhythm to them.

"Are you...is she?" He swallowed as images filled his head of Alayne (Sansa) touching herself right here, within touching distance.

"She is," Margaery confirmed slyly. "And she is so beautiful Jon. If only you could see her."

Jon groaned, the sound pathetic even to his own ears and he was on the verge of begging them to remove the blindfold again. It wouldn't be Sansa, but to see a pretty girl before him, taking her pleasure may just be enough to make him forget his grief for even a short time.

"Are you ready Jon?" Margaery asked.

He nodded even as nervousness made him tense, his tongue licking his lips unconsciously. Every nerve was on fire as he waited, his hands curling into his restraints and giving a small tug on the bedpost, the sound causing Margaery's giggle to echo around them again. But Jon couldn't care about her amusement as the weight of Alayne in his lap made him hiss, his arms pulling tight on his restraints once more as the wet heat of her dragged along his length until...

"Fuck!" he gasped as she descended on him, his cock slipping into her tight grip. He bit into his bottom lip as his back arched, desperate for more of her sweet, tempting cunt.

"Good?" Margaery teased, chuckling when Jon could only answer with a high, pathetic whine.

Alayne stilled when she was seated upon him fully, her hands planted firmly on his chest as she gave a soft moan above him.

"Seems like she is impressed," Margaery commented smugly. 

He groaned as she circled her hips, experimenting with slow, measured movements, her soft breaths hitching as when she found just the right angle and speed. Jon's fingers curled into his binds, his lip swelling beneath his teeth as he tried not to shout out from the rapture coursing through him. He could already feel himself approaching his finish, his belly tightening in anticipation. And as Alayne sped up, her soft sighs turning into high-pitched moans, he managed to find just enough words to give a hint of a warning.

"I...where will I...urgh, fuck!" he growled as she tightened around him.

"Inside me," Alayne gasped.

"I can't," Jon moaned hopelessly as his body disobeyed him, his hips jerking up, back arching and pulling taut as relief washed over him and spilled into her.

Alayne keened at the feel of him, still riding him with unrestrained enthusiasm and he felt the bump of her fingers against his navel before she gripped him tighter than even before, her thighs tensing and trembling on either side of his and Jon wished again that he could see her in the throes of ecstasy.

He felt her collapse forward, her hands pushing firmly on his chest to hold herself from falling completely on him. The sound of her panting for breath made him forget that they weren't completely alone as Margaery spoke once more.

"You'll need to clean up Alayne." Her tone was gentle but commanding. Jon wanted to protest as he felt her retreat from him, the bed feeling cold and empty as the weight lifted from her stepping off the bed.

"Thank you," Alayne whispered, he assumed to Margaery.

As he heard the door click shut, he was suddenly assaulted by blinding light from Margaery removing his blindfold. She smiled warmly at him as she undid his binds and stepped back, waiting patiently as he rubbed his wrists. 

"I have coin in my pouch, in the corner," he commented, inclining his head towards the pile of his abandoned clothes. Margaery shook her head.

"Alayne doesn't want to charge you," she insisted. 

Jon blinked, his brow furrowing in puzzlement but Margaery shook her head again before tipping it slightly, giving him the hint that he had to move. 

His legs wobbled slightly as he stood and he took a second to steady himself. Margaery turned towards the window, picking up a peach from the fruit bowl sitting on the table beside her.She remained with her back to him as he padded to his clothes and quickly pulled them on. When she turned towards him, her smile was sadder.

"I hope you find love again Jon," she said softly. "It seems you deserve it as much as Alayne does."

"Maybe someday I'll see her again," he commented humorously. He had no intention returning to the capital again after this but he didn't want to leave with such a depressing atmosphere around him.

"Perhaps," Margaery agreed sweetly

Jon nodded politely and turned to leave the room.

His men cheered as he entered the seating area downstairs and he rolled his eyes at the uproar. Making his way to the bar, he ordered a tankard of ale and reached into his pocket for his pouch, only to find it empty. Sighing at his stupidity, he apologised to the owner and quickly turned away, hurrying up the stairs to the room he had been in.

He called out that he was entering as he opened the door, ready to just grab his pouch and go. Except, he froze, his hand dropping from the handle as the dark-haired Alayne turned from where she was talking to Margaery and her wide blue eyes met his. Blue eyes he would recognise anywhere, blue eyes he would remember until the end of his days. Not Alayne's eyes, but Sansa's.

**Author's Note:**

> There is no reason or logic to this. Let's just say Margaery is friends with Sansa and wants her to have a good experience, knows she loved Jon and knows Jon is around. Don't look for coherent story, this be shameless reason to write blindfolded sex lol


End file.
